Dawn or Twilight, a parody
by Ganymde
Summary: An AU parody, where every character, location, name, event, is modified but still recognizable. Rate & comment please, this is my first published fanfiction :)
1. Chapter 1 - Gone with a plane

Chapter One – Gone with a plane

I waved Mum goodbye and boarded the plane. Finally I was able to get out of this boring, quiet city: Belfast. Well, I would regret some of the Gothic shops, but I knew I would find some other ones in Paris, and surely there would be more shops than here. I turned around to see if my mother was still there, but she had disappeared. Good riddance! I never understood why this Parisian chick, who changed boyfriends every day, had had a daughter and had come to Belfast. Happily, my aunt Coralie, Mum's younger sister, had offered me to live in Paris for a year, with her. I had agreed, and Mum hadn't said anything. I guess, being without me would help her to seem younger and get younger boyfriends...

I admired and worshipped Aunt Coralie. She loved travelling, but since, like, two years, she had settled down, for the sake of her _ligne de sous-vêtements féminins_. She owned a brand of feminine underwear which were loved by the Parisian girls... And boys, I suppose. Very frilly undergarments, I must confess... Since my fourteenth birthday, she would send me some of the best-sellers of the year, and, because she knew me well, she always chose the black and red ones. But, despite being the ultimate sexy and thrilling woman, she was of the very untidy kind, and had given a call only yesterday, penultimate day of the French summer holiday. I had packed all evening and all night, so the instant I sat down in the plane, I fell asleep.

When I woke up, I had a sour taste in my mouth. I had dreamed of my father. Actually, rather of the _shadow_ of my father. I had never met my father, and even Mum didn't know which one of her boyfriends it was. She couldn't remember any red-haired and green-eyed lover, she said. And my red hair and green eyes couldn't come from that small, heart-faced, brown-haired hazel-eyed woman. I was quite tall, at least taller than my mother, and the least one can say, is that I'm not invisible. A red-haired tall Gothic girl is easily noticeable, don't you think?

The pilot announced we would be landing in time, that is, in five minutes. I checked I wasn't forgetting anything and waited, day-dreaming. I actually liked not knowing who was my father. I feared that if had to encounter him, I would find out that he was a boring executive, or whatever, and not the kind of exciting father I dreamed of. But in my mind, one thing was sure: if I had to meet him by chance, I would recognize him, were he the last of the losers, and I would love him as my father whatever he was.

The plane landed and I alighted. I had to wait almost an hour to get my luggage back, because I had three suitcases. I had taken pretty much my whole wardrobe, even though I knew I would be buying a lot in Paris. Eventually I came out of the luggage hall, and pushing my luggage on a French trolley, I looked for aunt Coralie.

"_Chérie, te voilà enfin !_" I heard suddenly. I almost jumped with surprise. Obviously I spoke French as well as English, but it was my first time in Paris, so Coralie wanted to pick me up.

"_Bonjour, Coralie !_" I answered, delighted to see my beloved aunt again. She took some of my luggage, and I followed her to the her beautiful red Ferrari, chatting in a strange language, jumping from French to English without transition.

"Your room will be here !" she announced in her chanting voice. "And we will be lunching in an hour at _La Tour d'Argent_, so dress up nicely..."

I thanked her and went to have a shower, because, thought it was early September, the weather was scorching, and I had long sweated out all my black clothes. After showering, I went to put on some make-up. My freckles were alas, still there, but I had got used to them, and sometimes almost thought that they suited me.

I then put on a black silk cropped-top-gown on, and, knowing I would be sweating again, I took a fan. I went to see my aunt Coralie, who had also changed and now wore a glorious short glittering golden dress. Her blond shining hair was done up in a elaborate hairdo, highlighting her hazel-gold sweet eyes.

"Let's go, then, darling !" she announced, and happily throwing her purse over her shoulder, she walked out of her huge apartment. I followed.

At the restaurant, we were greeted by an incalculable number of people, all very well-dressed, to whom Aunt Coralie presented me as her beloved and only niece. My aunt knew everyone and everyone knew her. I was glad to be in Paris with her... Something, like a little voice in me, told me that this year would definitely not be boring. I smiled nicely to each person greeting us, trying to remember all the names, and answering when a question was asked.

We sat down and I had the most delightful lunch ever, tasting _Foie Gras_, and so many other French delicacies. At last, we had dessert, a _crème brûlée_, of the finest kind, with caramel, and I don't know what. I was taking the last spoonful when a young man, who seemed a bit older than Coralie, and radiated with sheer beauty, came to us. She seemed very happy to see him.

"This is my fiancé, Alexandre. Alex, may I introduce my dear niece, Leila."

He sat down with us, and, while chatting with him, I observed him. He was black-haired and black-eyed, and tall. His face was sharp and thin, and a small smile seemed to dance on his thin lips all the time. He seemed to notice my insistent look and smiled at me twice, letting me see some wonderful white teeth. Without thinking, I asked in the middle of their conversation :

"Are you a model in toothpaste advertising ?"

Coralie and Alex looked at me, eyes wide-open, and then, in the same moment, they began to laugh, so hard, that I felt shame redden my face.

"Oh, excuse me..." I muttered under my breath, annoyed by their mockery, but he answered before I could say anything more.

"No, it's okay. Despite not being a model in a _toothpaste _advertising, I am a model, but for a famous clothes brand."

That explained the feeling of _déjà vu_ I had... My cheeks went normal again and I tried to smile. Happily, Coralie had a schedule she had to hold on that afternoon, so we left just after that embarrassing event.

Aunt Coralie left me at her apartment, giving me a set of keys. She told me to unpack my luggage and feel at home and that she would be back for supper. I thanked her and went up to the third story, where she lived, disregarding the elevator. Once back in my room, I changed to a pair of jeans and began to unpack my clothes. Happily, the room was huge, and I had two big wardrobes. I decided to put my Gothic clothes in the wardrobe standing left of the bed and the casual clothes in the other one. The room had a huge double bed, those two wardrobes and a desk with loads of drawers. The bed leaned against the south wall and the desk sat against the west wall. Two doors opened on the north wall : one to a tiny bathroom which would be only mine, and the other one to the rest of the huge apartment. The east wall was separated in two by a French window, giving onto a cute little balcony with a charming wrought iron guardrail.

After having put everything in order and checked my few emails, I went to visit the rest of the flat. My room was between two other rooms. One of them was Coralie's room, and the other one was for an potential guest, I guess. Both of them were quite like mine, with a small bathroom for each of them. There was also a huge lounge, with two large, magnificent old windows, and a wall covered with books, CD's and DVD's of very eclectic kinds. Coralie's study, which was next, was in quite a mess, I must confess. I sat down for a minute in the dining room, a long room, with a solid oak long table. The lamps were candlelight imitations, and the whole room was quite intriguing, like a castle room in a modern flat. At last, I entered the kitchen, which was all in white and very clean. I guessed it was because Aunt Coralie prefers to eat out. The fridge was quite empty, except for a bottle of milk and some fruits and eggs, so I was right in my guessing. I got a glass of water and drank it while eating a peach.

Minutes later, I found myself musing on my dearest wish: meeting a vampire. I wished more than anything to be bitten by one of them, and it thoroughly explained my dark style. Or perhaps my style explained my wish. I didn't know any more. I guess they were born together in my head. Actually, if I were dreaming about vampires, it was because a little voice in me told me that I was to meet one shortly, or perhaps that I had already met one. But when?

I stood up and washed my glass, before noticing that there was a dishwasher. How could I ever have thought that Coralie didn't have a dishwasher. Shame on me... I nevertheless dried my glass, put it away and went back to my room.

I had another reason for rejoicing : no uniforms in French schools! I could wear whatever I wanted. But, as a matter of fact, I didn't really want to freak all the students away on my first day, so I decided to wear a simple pair of jeans and a cute top. Well, there was a dominance of black, and some dark jewellery, but it seemed casual enough to me, so I decided it would be okay.

I then sat down and read, and surfed on the internet, a bit bored. Usually, I would have been with my Gothic _friends_ in Belfast, talking about pretty much nothing. I didn't make friends easily, because I was selective.

At 9 o'clock, Coralie came back. She had very red cheeks, and after a short greeting, she went to shower. In the coolness of the apartment, I had forgotten how hot it was outside. I decided to make some fresh orange juice for Coralie. She actually drank it, and then told me we would be eating Chinese. Three minutes later, someone rang at the door and a young man announced the delivery. Coralie thanked him, took the delivery and went to the kitchen. Once we sat there, I dared to ask why we weren't eating in the dining room.

"Oh ! That's for _les grandes occasions_, the important events, with colleagues, or my ... friends."

I couldn't understand why she hesitated before saying friends, but it didn't bother me longer than that: the Chinese food was really good, and I had a great time savouring it, despite Coralie's lack of appetite, which she reproached to the heat.

"Now, _chérie_, it's time for you to go to bed ! Tomorrow is a big day: first French school day! I'm sure you'll make loads of friends in the school I chose you... Just choose the right ones!"

And with this enigmatic sentence she disappeared into her study, leaving me alone with the rests of the Chinese supper. I threw everything into the rubbish bin, cleared a bit the mess and wondered how Coralie could survive by letting everything lie around. Did a nice spirit come and clean all the mess, or did she happen to actually clean up herself?

Once in my new Parisian bed, I lay there, thinking, eyes wide open. I was totally excited for the next day, but I couldn't help thinking of Coralie's enigmatic sentence... To choose the right friends? What did she mean?


	2. Chapter 2 - First Day

Chapter Two – First day

I woke up two minutes before my alarm clock rang. I guess I must have been really nervous. I couldn't recall any of my dreams. I usually remembered them, so I had some weird feelings. They must have been kinda strange...

After showering, I got dressed in the simple clothes I had chosen, and, despite the skull earrings and the fishnet fingerless gloves, I didn't look to scary. Or perhaps I did, but I couldn't judge very well any more. I let my long, wavy voluminous dark red hair free, and put some black eye-liner on to enhance my emerald eyes. Eventually I went down and found Coralie having breakfast. Or rather, seeming to have breakfast.

"Do you really think two breakfast rusks and a cup of coffee will be enough, Aunt Coralie ?" I had to ask. She had a delightful laugh, and putting a lock of her honey-blonde hair behind her ear, she answered that she'd have lunch early and had to save some appetite. I must have looked very sceptical, for her cheeks reddened a bit. She was almost thirty and still seemed so childish. But that made her charm, and that was why everyone liked her – me included.

"Let's go darling !" she said before I could sit down and have some of her breakfast rusks. "We'll stop at a _café_ and you'll get a _croissant _and a cup of something. You couldn't get full with what I have here. Do you have your school bag ?"

I rushed up and got my bag, my purse and ran down. Two minutes later we were in Coralie's shining car. She stopped next to a coffee-house and I had a very French breakfast, with some pastries, jam, an orange juice and coffee.

At quarter to eight we were at the school, and Coralie, after giving me a kiss on the forehead, drove away to her work. I looked at the tall gate and went in. In France school starts at eight, but the gate is already open at quarter to eight. I entered the school yard, somewhat tense. People looked at me and then began to chat again with their friends. I looked around to see if there were any people who looked as thought they could help me. And then I saw _her_. She wasn't really the discrete kind. Actually, I think, she looked even more remarkable than me in my whole eccentric Victorian outfit.

A pink comb. Her hair was almost totally shaved off on the sides of her head, and on the top of her head stood this high, shocking pink comb. She wore very heavy spiky shoes, some tight black jeans, a belly-less sleeveless pink tee-shirt, pink fingerless gloves and had piercings everywhere : on her navel, on her ears, one on a brow and I was sure she had one on her tongue. Seeing I glared at her, she smiled and waved. I stood hesitantly in the middle of the school yard, so she came to me, not at all bothered by her seemingly very heavy shoes. She actually was taller than me, and I came to think that I was only tall in Belfast and not in Paris.

"Hi there !" she said in French. "I'm Rose and you ?"

I looked a her, puzzled. Did that mean I could have come dressed with a corset etcetera ? Then I figured out standing there wasn't very polite, so I answered in French.

"I'm Leila, nice to meet you. I arrived in France yesterday." It was actually really awkward.

"Come, I'll show you where you have to go." She took my hand and dragged me to a notice board. She looked at it for a minute. "Is you last name Crow, Leila ?" I nodded. "Oh that's so cool ! _Crow _is really a brilliant name !" I smiled, perplexed. What was with this girl, talking loudly, smiling all the time ? Weird...

"So, you're in the _Première Littéraire Trois_, like me... And Max !" Her cheeks went a little pink, and I guessed that she had some interest in that guy. I wondered if he was rather casual or more of a Punk, like her. I'd soon see.

"What are your _options_ ?" she asked me, changing the subject. I seemed to look very puzzled, for she had to laugh. "You came to France not knowing the system ? Do you know what the literary track is ?" As I didn't seem to understand, she explained to me that in French secondary school there were three years. The first year took all subjects together, but at the end of this year you had to choose a_ filière_, a track. In order to make it easier for me – it was complicated enough – she told me that there were four tracks : the scientific one, the social-sciences one, the technological one and the literary one, which was the one I chose. _I_ had never chosen anything, but Aunt Coralie had apparently done the choosing for me. And she had chosen right, for what I knew of this system. I still didn't know what _options_, that is obligatory and optional subjects, were but Rose explained that it the literary track, one had to chose two languages and an obligatory option, which could be a third modern language, art, maths, first language again, which I didn't understand, Greek or Latin. And one could have one or two optional subjects in addition to those amongst the subjects not chosen. I hoped Coralie knew what she had chosen.

The school bell rang and Rose pushed me into the building. I tripped over the step, but she caught hold of me. We ran through the long corridor and up the stairs, to room 24, where our class, the _Première L Trois_, Second-grade L Three, hat to gather. While we waited for the teacher, I looked at the other teenagers. They didn't seem too unpleasant. Rose sighed. I guessed it was because her Max wasn't there yet.

The teacher arrived at last and my new friend almost whined.

"Oh no, not _Monsieur Chou-fleur_..." she complained. Why did they nickname the teacher "Cauliflower", I wondered. But not for very long : the man, who was searching for the key of the classroom, had a large amount of white, voluminous, curly hair, on the top of his thin, pale and wrinkled face, which really made me think of cauliflower. I had to muffle a laughter and Rose joined me. We both entered the room brightly smiling.

When the teenagers had all sat down, the crooked old man said in French :

"Good morning, dear students, I'm your French and Literature teacher, _Monsieur Golinski_. I will now pass this list round, and you will check that you are registered in the obligatory and optional subjects you chose."

Rose and I sat in the first row, so we got the list first. My languages were English and Russian. Why should I ever want to learn Russian ? I scolded Coralie mentally, but, as usual, I decided to trust her : she certainly had her reasons. I then checked my obligatory option. Theatre. That was more like it : I loved acting, it was all my life ! But then I moaned in annoyance... Coralie had also chosen an optional subject : Greek. Why Greek ? Ancient languages weren't of any use.

Rose gave the list to the next students.

"My languages are English and German and my obligatory subject is Maths as special field. You'll have to survive without me in Russian, Theatre and Greek. Will you ?" she smiled. But then she looked so concerned I almost thought she was serious. I had to reassure her before she told me it was a joke.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door, and, without waiting for an answer, the door opened. The strangest boy entered the room : he had a totally shaved head, except for two green hair-lines on each side, over the ears. He was dressed all in black, had half a dozen visible piercings and the same shoes as Rose. Her face brightened the instant he entered.

"He's Max, isn't he ?" I whispered in her ear. She nodded, not really surprised that I had read through her.

The teenager, not even apologizing for his lateness, went directly to our table, and kissed a very surprised Rose.

"Rose, I had promised myself to declare my love to you today. That's why I'm late."

Then, suddenly, a bunch of pink roses appeared in his hand. I supposed he had hidden it in his cloak-like coat. (A coat ? With this heat ?)

"Will you be my girl-friend, Rose ?" he added finally.

Her cheeks weren't pink any more. They were bright red.

"Of course." she whispered. And all the other teenagers, who had held quiet while Max was declaring his love, broke into applause. I joined, glad for this very new friend.

The teacher had to have a loud coughing fit for the students to recall that he was there. Max apologized at least a hundred times, turning bright red too. Leaving the bunch of roses on Rose's table, he sat down on one of the empty seats.

The elderly teacher explained a lot of stuff, gave us loads of papers to have signed by tomorrow by parents or legal tutor (that would be Coralie), our timetables, and let us free.

"Well, lessons only start tomorrow." Rose announced, filling her somewhat torn bag with the papers. "What will you do till then ? You've just arrived, so you're not likely to have friends here in Paris, am I wrong ?" She really had a thing for talking fast, a lot _and_ without breathing.

"You're right, I don't have friends in Paris, except for you. But I wouldn't want to disturb your love story, now that Max has finally declared himself." I winked.

With a gesture of her hand, she pushed that problem away.

"We have been friends for long, so I think we'll have to get accustomed to the fact that we are lovers now. It'll be more fun with you. Give whoever-the-person-is-whose-putting-you-up a call and tell her you'll be spending the day with us ! We'll show you Paris !"

I had to agree to this decision, and I actually was glad that Rose had proposed that, for I would have been sitting around at home, not knowing what to do. I sent a text to Coralie and she answered immediately that it was okay and that I must have fun with my new friends.

We had lunch at McDonalds. At least, I was familiar with that, it didn't change very much depending in which country you were. Max was a nice fellow, joking all the time. And, like Rose had said, even being lovers, they chatted around like friends would do. They also made fun of each other and squabbled affectionately all the time, dragging me into their fights so I wouldn't feel excluded. They were like the friends I never had. (Can you imagine meeting exactly the right friends after seventeen years of living ? Well that was it !)

As promised, they showed me Paris, which included walking pretty much, since I didn't have an Underground ticket yet. Finally, we sat down by la _Fontaine des Innocents_, the Fountain of the Innocents, next to _les Halles_, the very centre of Paris. We chatted there for a long time, and I suddenly noticed it was late. I went home with them, for I'd have got lost alone, and we separated, ready for the _real_ first school day.


End file.
